A Night at Grimmauld Place
by rockndasha
Summary: Just a little bit of Hermione/Harry fluff. Includes a piano, Frederic Chopin, music, Harry, and Hermione. First Harry Potter fic, so please review.  rating for the use of the word 'hell' *GASP!*


****

Disclaimer: No, I do not owe Harry Potter, if I did then the 7th book would NEVER be the way it is X(

(: Hope you enjoy the story :)

* * *

Harry was sitting on the couch of the 12 Grimmauld Place living room trying hard to ignore, what Ron thought was music, coming out of the old piano. Hermione was once again trying to teach the Weasley how to play Für Elise, and he was still making the same mistakes as before.

_I wonder if he only does that for her attention._ Harry thought but immediately shook his head chastising himself for thinking bad of his friend.

"No Ron. For the hundredth time it's an E flat not a C," he heard Hermione say. The next moment the room was filled with a beautiful tune.

_I suppose that means that 'Mione's the one playing_, Harry thought staring at the snitch buzzing in front of him, _when is Creature going to bring Mundungus back? It's been ages!_ His thoughts were interrupted by a particularly nasty sound coming from the direction of the piano. Getting fed up, Harry stood grabbed the snitch and went upstairs.

Seeing as it was getting dark outside, the boy-who-lived decided to get some sleep already knowing that it will be plagued with what Voldemort thought was nightmares.

_Harry ran through the forest after a fleeting girl trying to catch a glimpse of her face. It was dark and the cold wind blew viciously across his face. He saw the girl disappear behind a tree and soon after heard a blood curling scream._

"_Hermione!" he shouted out the name out of pure instinct… without even knowing why. Running up to the tree he saw a bloodied corps of the girl he was running after. He bent down next to her fighting the urge to run for his life and turned the corps around. He was met with glassed over brown eyes and a ripped up throat. Without knowing why, he lifted his wand pointing it at her chest._

"_Avada Kedavra…" he whispered and all went black. _

Harry woke up and immediately reached for his glasses. Unlike all the other dreams he had, this one was not of Voldemort, or the death of Dumbledore. It was different and that scared Harry. Realizing that sleep is not going to come for some time, he stood up and quietly walked downstairs to the kitchens. He crept down the stairs avoiding all the particularly creaky planks, slowly opened the door to the kitchen, and successfully managed to get a glass of water.

"Bloody brilliant Potter," he muttered after unsuccessfully sitting on a chair resulting in both him and the chair to topple over on the floor, with the water spilling all over Harry's shirt. Slowly getting up he put the chair back into the table and muttered a quiet _Reparo_ on the broken glass. Just when he was filling the glass with new water, Harry heard a soft but sad tune coming from the living room. _Who the hell is- Nah, scratch that! Why the hell is Hermione up so early?_ He thought incredulously, quietly walking towards the arch that led into the sitting room.

When he walked inside he saw Hermione sitting at the ancient instrument in her PJs without a care in the world. She looked free, _Beautiful… When did she become so bloody beautiful?_ He thought sitting down on a nearby chair to continue to listen to his friend's playing. _She truly is amazing at everything she does… _thought Harry, then shook his head trying to rid it of the thoughts coming into it.

Hermione looked to be part of the music, as if she was pouring her soul out. She hadn't even noticed Harry come into the room, or sit down on the chair behind her, or cautiously stand up and move next to her. She hadn't noticed the way he looked at her this entire time. No, she just kept on playing the piece that she learned before having to obliviate her parents.

Harry heard her coming to the end of the piece and was about to talk when she started a new one. So he just stood and listened refraining himself from running his hands through her hair. He observed the ease that her hands moved over the keys with, the way she closed her eyes when it came to a slower or more sad part of the piece, and finally the way she let the last note linger in the air before removing her hands from the keys and rubbing her eyes.

"That was beautiful," he whispered making her jump and turn around, nearly falling onto the piano where it not for Harry's fast reflexes.

"Harry! You scared me. Thank you though," she smiled gently at her friend, then a look of worry crept over her face, "I didn't wake you did I?"

"No," was all he said and after realizing that he was still holding her let go and went towards the couch. He was soon followed by Hermione who sat down next to him, curling her legs underneath herself.

"'Mione?"

"Yeah?"

"What were those pieces?" he finally looked up at her and found her head lowered slightly. She looked up at him, her eyes slightly sad. _God, please don't make her cry! I didn't mean to bring out bad memories!_

"Uh, they were written by Frederic Chopin... The famous-"

"Muggle composer," finished up Harry while a small smile lit up her face, "I knew that 'Mione, I meant what are they called?"

"Oh…" the witch lowered her head slightly to fight the embarrassed blush, "The first one was a Nocturne In E-Minor Op. 72, No. 1 – Andante, and the second was Nocturne In E-Flat Major, Op. 55, No. 2…" she glanced up at the boy sitting next to her and nearly burst out laughing at the look on his face.

"Uh, right! I will remember that, somehow," he mumbled, "How did you remember their name anyways? With all those different uh, numbers?"

"They were the last two things I ever played for my mom," she said lowering her head and looking into space with a sad expression. Harry noticed the lone tear that escaped her eyes and was about to change the subject when Hermione began speaking again, her voice now laced with a sad smile. "She used to play them for me when I was small too, I believe I stopped crying whenever she did."

"'Mione, I'm so sorry," he said putting his arm around her shoulders and holding her close to him marveling at the way she willingly hugged him. The girl sobbed quietly into his shirt, while he ran his hand through her hair to calm her down.

"Well Harry," she said when she calmed down slightly, "At least now I know how you feel…" even though she wasn't crying anymore she made no move to let go off Harry.

"No 'Mione, this is truly different. I hardly even remember my parents, you however. You remember them, you know they are still alive. Yet they are living somewhere without even realizing that you exist… and I think, that this is a thousand times worse then what happened to me," the sincerity in his voice made Hermione look up at him and smile slightly.

"You truly are an amazing person Harry Potter," she whispered smiling. Harry did not know how it happened, but he found himself kissing the girl that has been his best friend for ages. And the most surprising part being that she kissed him back. Short, sweet, innocent… The three words that would be used to describe the kiss and the embrace the two shared.

"What was that for Ms. Granger?" he whispered looking into her eyes.

"For caring…"

* * *

**Just a bit of fluff (I think :P) that came into my mind when I watched that scene in the new Harry Potter movie, you know the one where Ron attempts playing on the piano? Ya, well i thought to expand it slightly :P Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Please leave a review! Thanks :)**


End file.
